Reflections on the life and work of a woman who is a counselor and lover of God and people.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Your Mother (In Remembrance of Domestic Violence Awareness Month)

I walk down the street and you whistle.
I do not respond.
You call me a stuck-up bitch.
YOUR MOTHER.

I walk by you in the club.
You want my attention,
So you grab my ass.
YOUR MOTHER.

You call me, and I don't call you back.
You expect me to be interested,
Just because you are.
You lie about me to your friends,
And tell them you had sex with me.
YOUR MOTHER.

We're at work, and you tell me
You like my butt in these jeans.
I call it sexual harassment.
You tell me I'll lose my job if I report you.
YOUR MOTHER.

We're at home, and I tell you
I'm too tired to have sex
So you take it by force,
Because you think I owe it to you
For being the "man" of the house.
YOUR MOTHER.

We disagree,
Because that's what humans do.
You tell me I'm disobeying you.
You push me into a wall.
YOUR MOTHER.

You're angry,
Because I question your behavior with other women
When you're obviously cheating on me.
You punch me in the face.
YOUR MOTHER.

You're furious,
Because I don't think how you want me to think,
Or do what you want me to do,
Or say what you want me to say,
Or wear what you want me to wear,
So you beat me until I lose consciousness.
YOUR MOTHER.

Every time you think of a woman as an object,
You touch her without her consent,
You call her vulgar and inappropriate names,
You cost her her job if she doesn't give in to your advances,
You force her to have sex when she doesn't want to,
You lie to her,
You cheat on her,
You punch, kick or beat her,
Or you kill her.
Think of YOUR MOTHER.
Would you like for her to be treated that way?